


A Moment's Hesitation

by RoryMercury



Series: Black Butterfly [1]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assisted Suicide, Bad End AU, Beheading, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Lucrezia Wins, Mild Gore, Revenge, Sad Ending, Suicide, Tarvek needs hugs, What-If, roaring rampage of revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryMercury/pseuds/RoryMercury
Summary: While rereading, I found myself wondering 'What was the sabotage that Lucrezia did to the extraction machine that Tarvek built?'This fic was what my brain decided to reply with.I hate the black plot bunny that came out of nowhere and chewed on my consciousness until I wrote.In case the tags are skipped: this is a dark fic, with suicide/assisted suicide (?) portrayed, albeit briefly.
Relationships: Agatha Heterodyne/Tarvek Sturmvoraus, Canon Status Quo, implied ot3 - Relationship
Series: Black Butterfly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120430
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	A Moment's Hesitation

The dirigible that had been The Queen of the Dawn’s floating palace burned. The gases that kept it afloat were very flammable, and reminded Martellus of the dreams that had gone up in flames months ago. He watched as it crashed into a plain, and began to burn in earnest.

The crunch of a boot on a twig made Martellus turn around. Even though he had been expecting him, the sight of Tarvek made fear skitter up Martellus’ spine and he had to resist the urge to flee from his presence. Gone was the elegant, handsome young man that had been his rival for the Throne of Lighting, the man that had loved Lady Heterodyne with all his being. 

_That_ man had died the moment that the machine they thought would extract the Other from Agatha had instead burned out Agatha’s personality, and left behind Lucrezia in her daughter’s body. It had been Tarvek who had realised it first, been the one who unfroze from the horror after having thrown the switch, had been the one who had run Lucrezia through with a knife into her heart. Into _Agatha’s_ body’s heart. He had cradled the body of the woman he had loved through her last breath, watched as her cruel mother used her face to smile in malicious triumph as tears had run down his face, as Gilgamesh screamed.

The Tarvek that stood before him now wore the black and greys of a Night Master, the greys revealing blood and gore. His eyes, which had been dead for months, glittered with anticipation, the mad, gentle smile that had twisted his lips for months now grinned with a reaper’s joy. Blood smeared one cheek, and his long, elegant pianist’s hands were red with it. In one fist he clutched Zola’s head. Rather, half her head. Martellus could see where Tarvek had chopped open her skull to extract the brain to destroy it, ensuring that she could never be brought back. He forced himself not to flinch as Tarvek tossed the head at his feet.

“It is done. She was the last fragment of Lucrezia in the world.” Tarvek said softly. 

Martellus shivered, remembering the last time he had heard Tarvek using that same soft tone, the day that Agatha had died.

“None of this would have happened if only I had escorted her out myself. If we had fled Sturmhalten with the Muses and gone straight to Mechanicsburg together. If I had killed my father the moment he raised a hand against her. This is _my_ fault. _All_ of it.” The light had faded from Tarvek’s eyes as he breathed, _“I killed her._ ”

Now Tarvek’s gaze turned to Martellus, and the madness in it seemed to fade away. He held out his hand. “Give it to me. You promised, Martellus.”

Martellus reached into the pocket of his greatcoat, pulled out a narrow blackwood box and held it out to Tarvek. With an eagerness that chilled Martellus from inside out, Tarvek snatched it up and flipped it open to reveal a nullabist stiletto knife. With Martellus’ help, he had planned his death long ago, but he wouldn’t go until he knew that nothing was left of Lucrezia, now and forever. Tarvek seemed to relax, and he sighed, as if seeing a long lost lover.

“At last.” Tarvek smiled. With his other hand Tarvek undid the belt that held the sword of house Sturmvoraus, which he had been using for executions, and held it out to Martellus. From the crosspiece dangled a chain that held a platinum ring with a deep blue sapphire. The engagement ring that Tarvek had somehow obtained in Paris and carried with him the entire journey he’d been with Agatha after the Immortal Library had kidnapped him from under Gilgamesh’s nose a lifetime ago.

“If... if he’ll allow it, place this at her grave for me.”

He. The von Mekkhan seneschal.

Vanamonde had risen broken from his grief to rule the people that Agatha’s death had left behind. The Heterodynes were gone forever.

Unless Barry Heterodyne still lived, that is.

“And if he doesn’t?” Martellus asked. 

“Then give it to Gil.”

As if saying the name summoned the man, a small airship descended from the clouds above. It had no gasbag and soared on wings of metal. Gil called out Tarvek’s name as he curved the flying machine over the cliff upon which Martellus and Tarvek stood. Tarvek walked past Martellus to the edge of the cliff to watch his only boyhood friend fly the machine in another circuit around them, pleading with Tarvek.

Tarvek waved, then turned to Martellus. “Goodbye, Martellus. Tell Violetta she was like a sister to me, and that Gilgamesh was… has _always_ been my brother. It’s too much to hope for, but... maybe I will see _her_ again.”

Tarvek took out the nullabist knife and closed his eyes. In a single, unhesitating movement, he drove it up into the underside of his jaw, straight into his brain stem. Tarvek fell backward off the cliff as Gilgamesh screamed his name once more. By the time they reached the bloodied rocks at the bottom, Martellus’ nullabist poison had already done its work. Tarvek’s body was gone, leaving only the clothes and his pince-nez behind.

Gilgamesh stared at Martellus, hugging those last remnants of what had been Tarvek to his chest, black ash slipping through his fingers. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“Because he asked. And because it was the only thing I could do to make up for the fact that if it hadn’t been for me, and the delay I provided, you might’ve been able to successfully extract Lucrezia, without her sabotaging the machine. My presence had weakened Agatha’s ability to hold her mother back, filled as she was with strong emotions of hate and revulsion for me and what I had done to her.” Martellus looked at the glasses carefully held in Gil’s hand. “He’s at peace now. Let us bury him and, for the sake of the dreams they’d had, carry on for Agatha and Tarvek’s sake.”

When Gilgamesh did not move, Martellus added, more gently, “Agatha would have wanted that, Wulfenbach. Come. The world still needs us to fix it. We’ll mourn after we’re done.”

Martellus watched as Gilgamesh nodded, wiped the tears from his eyes with his arm like a child would, and rose, looking like a lost child. But as Martellus gazed on, a faint but determined light appeared in Gil’s eyes. _Tarvek had been right about that too. He had predicted everything_.

Weeks later, Martellus laid the sword and the ring at Agatha’s grave. Gil placed flowers, then they both walked back to where Vanamonde stood with Adam and Lilith, dressed in black and with a Heterodyne trilobite carved of black diamond glittering at his throat.

Adam placed a hand on their shoulders. “Let’s go.”

After taking several steps, Martellus turned back to see Gilgamesh still gazing at the statues. Agatha sat, reading a book in her lap. Next to her was a statue of Tarvek leaning over her shoulder so he could read what she was pointing at. They smiled, as they never had a chance to in life.

To Martellus, it seemed like the sun glinted off the ring resting at Agatha’s feet, like the glimmer of a tear.

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me while writing that Tarvek might take advantage of having access to family resources in Paris to get a ring. If he told Agatha he loves her after surviving a hive queen, this seemed like the next logical step, just having one ready, in case… well, he hoped, dreamed, wished. Perhaps he wore it around his neck, under his clothes, throughout the journey to England, and during it.
> 
> Tiny, tiny bright spot: Wooster lives because Lu doesn’t go Second Breakthrough here; she knows she’s winning anyway.
> 
> \---  
> [Now has a postscript](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020153) by [Trivena_Butterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trivena_Butterfly/pseuds/Trivena_Butterfly)!
> 
> Thanks to [Trivena_Butterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trivena_Butterfly/pseuds/Trivena_Butterfly) and Lady Barronmore for beta-ing and editing!
> 
> If I've missed tags, please let me know I will add them. It's my first posting here.


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